


You Were the Light That Is Blinding Me

by Magnetism_bind



Series: The Anchor [4]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, First Time, Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory, Post-Finale, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: One month after their arriving in France and things aren't as settled as they could be.





	You Were the Light That Is Blinding Me

They’ve been in France for one month. It’s early days Silver knows, but Flint and he are still treading careful ground with each other. They pass each other during the day and meet like desperate ships in the night, destined for collision and breaking apart afterward with fresh wreckage splintering between them.

He bears the marks of Flint’s passion on his body during the days, takes Flint’s hands and presses them afresh into his skin in bed, and then on the nights when he’s alone, Silver skims his hand over them, letting his thoughts roam where they may.

This acknowledgment of their desire for each other is still so new, it takes his breath away.

…and then there’s Thomas.

Silver doesn’t know what to do, how to make things better with Thomas.

Ever since they arrived in France and James and Silver first began, truly began, what had been started oh so long ago, Thomas has retreated behind a curtain of polite courtesy. He’s civil but there’s not that explicit warmth that Silver had been so drawn to when he first arrived.

He _want_ s…he doesn’t know what he wants from Thomas. No, that’s a lie, he does. Silver knows precisely what he wants. He’s just not sure whether Thomas wants it too. It seems too fortuitous a thing to have both Flint and Thomas within his grasp. No man could be that lucky, even John Silver who’s carried luck with him most of his days.

 *  *  *

The days pass slowly. They are watchful of the space around them, still aware of the dangers behind them.

Thomas has secured a teaching position in the village, or rather he had ascertained there is no school within the village and simply started one.

There’s a nearby vineyard and Flint gets a job there. He’s gone for most of the day and returns in the late afternoon, smelling pleasantly of earth and vines and contentedly weary.

 It falls to Silver to keep the house and he does, cooking and restlessly watching the windows, waiting for Flint and Thomas to return, watching for other people as well.

France was not his idea after all, and he’s still wary of those windows for personal reasons, even though he’s not shared those reasons with either Flint or Thomas. They thought France was safe, and for them it is.  Silver will not be the one to take that away from them. He’ll simply keep watch, and if the past he’s left behind, rises up to meet him once more, then he’ll deal with that when it comes.

 *  *  *

In the meantime there is Thomas, and no matter what Silver feels for Thomas these days, he also still feels like he’s not measuring up to Thomas or his expectations or his anything. Silver cooks adequately enough these days, though it’s not up to the fare Thomas has been used to in London, of course. Silver also knows that Thomas’s time at the plantation have left him uncaring of what the food on the table is, as long as there is food. They don’t talk much of that time either. There are so many pauses in the silences between them, Thomas thinking of something and withdrawing. Silver recognizes the need for silence then. Thomas will speak of it when he’s ready to, and if he’s not ready to, he won’t.

Their meals are quiet affairs with Flint clearly torn between what to say between them. Silver mostly focuses on his plate. The conversation is sparse and often every mouthful is agonizing.

Afterwards, most evenings Thomas and Flint read together and Silver sits by the fire, watching them, listening, his hands curled on his lap. It’s peaceful and he enjoys it, no matter how much he wishes he were invited closer.

The light of the fire falls gently upon his boot and he leans his head to one side, watching, out of the slant of his gaze, the way Flint is watching Thomas read, his lips framing the words with simple pleasure.

It would be paradise, if it didn’t ache so much. He’s here: he’s not here. Is he part of them, is he apart? He wants Flint; he has Flint at times but the gulf is still immeasurable. And then there is Thomas still.

 *  *  *

During the day their books remain in a chest in the bedroom, with Thomas returning them there safely after every night’s reading. The key to the chest is kept in the desk in the front room. The desk is not locked.

Silver’s not as well-read as Thomas or James either, though he takes pains to try. He enjoys reading immensely, but when he was younger there was little opportunity. The only reason he had learned to read was because knowledge was another weapon you could use to protect yourself and no one could steal that from you. The skill to read had been infinitely useful throughout Silver’s life and now, when he is alone in the cottage, he slips the key from the drawer and opens the chest.

 He reads while Thomas is out teaching, taking care to replace the books before he returns home, so that no one else knows of his endeavors. Neither of them had said he wasn’t to read the books; Silver simply thinks this is safer.

And then one afternoon comes when Silver’s too absorbed in the words on the page and doesn’t hear the tread upon the doorstep until it’s too late.

“What are you doing?” Thomas’s voice is sharp to his ears and Silver jumps, clutching the book in his hands. He swallows, knowing he’s been trespassing into Thomas’s belongings, the way he’s trespassed into Thomas’s life.  As much as he likes to believe there’s always a way out, in this situation he’s not so sure.

“I…was going to put it back.” He offers it apologetically. He rises to his feet, uncertain of whether to simply do that now, or give it to Thomas or what. His hands are reluctant to surrender the book.

“You’ve been reading my books without my permission.” Thomas looks at him oddly, looking at the book clasped in Silver’s hands.

“Yes.” Silver admits.

“Why?” Thomas asks bluntly.

 _“Why?”_ Surely he doesn’t have to answer that, surely Thomas knows, how he feels around him, like he’ll never fucking measure up. How does he not know that without Silver having to say the words aloud?

“Because you make me feel like I’m not good enough.”

Thomas stares at him. “What?”

“I know that James loves you, that we are not the same as you and he but…” Silver shudders helplessly. He’s tried so hard to mold himself into something that fits here, something that belongs with them, and he’s exhausted. “I want the best for him and I want to keep him safe. I love him too, even if you don’t want to see it.”

Thomas is still just staring at him and Silver hears the words he’s just spoken sinking in. _Shit_. What has he just admitted to? Love? _Shit._ His heart sinks.

“I meant…” Thomas says slowly. “Why didn’t you simply ask? I would have gladly loaned you the books. Any book.” He hesitated. “I haven’t wanted to intrude on you and James, because I know how difficult things have been between the two of you since you’ve reunited.”

It’s Silver’s turn to stare incredulously. “What?” He knew that the tension between him and James had been noticeable but he’d assumed Thomas hadn’t been concerned on their behalf, at least, not on his.

“That night we spent waiting for him, I felt a closeness to you that I have longed to repeat but every day this tension between you and James is…” Thomas shakes his head. “That’s why I let there be distance between us.”

“Do you truly mean that?” Silver asks, his hand still clutching Thomas’s book and Thomas reaches over to place his hand over his trembling fingers.

“Yes.” Slowly he moves closer, taking Silver’s hand in his. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel anything less than welcome. Every day I am grateful you are here, that you came and warned us.”

“I don’t want you to be grateful to me.” Silver mutters. “I want you to want me.” His face burns with admitting that, but he’s already spoken so much. What’s one more confession in the space of all that he admitted? He’s said he loves Flint here, when he’s never said it aloud before.

“Then know this,” Thomas says softly, “I want you very much.” He cups Silver’s cheek in his hands and kisses him tenderly.

The kiss lights a fire in Silver’s body, coiling around him, drawing him in until he has to pull back, flushed and eager.

“What about James?”

Thomas’s hand slides over his shirt, pulling him closer to him.

“He’s had you to himself long enough.” Thomas murmurs hungrily, pressing a kiss into the curve of Silver’s mouth. And Silver groans, faintly, his body warming further at the desire in Thomas’s voice.

His couplings with Flint are so fraught with emotion, barely held back at times, hardly confessed even in the heat of the moment. He knows Flint wants him, but it’s complex in the way that love is in its simple existence, passionate and consuming, and Silver often finds himself desperate for the certainty of assurances at times.

With Thomas this desire is so purely straightforward. He simply wants Silver and the simplicity of such want, sends an answering crushing wave of wanting through Silver. Their mouths find each other again and Thomas’s hands draw him even closer and then they’re against the wall and his hand is inside Silver’s breeches. They’re sliding down his thighs and then Thomas draws himself out, taking them both in hand, making Silver groan again at the breadth of his hand covering them, stroking them in a heated rhythm. Silver’s mouthing kisses his way along Thomas’s neck, trying to reach him, but the angle is wrong. Thomas is too tall, damnit. Silver keeps pushing himself up to get to his mouth, and finally gives up with a slight laugh.

Thomas sucks a mark in the curve of his neck, still stroking them, until Silver whimpers, low in his throat.

“Thomas, I’m going to…”

Thomas simply keeps moving his hand busily until Silver makes good on his word and spills across their cocks. Thomas murmurs something quiet to his hair as he finishes and then he leans down to kiss Silver sweetly on the mouth.

“Tonight when James comes back, I’m going to make good on the promise of I made all those months ago.”

“And what was that?” Silver asks, half in a daze.

Thomas still has his hand on them, warm and broad and if he doesn’t move it, Silver will start to respond again.

“To take you into our bed.” Thomas whispers, nipping at Silver’s ear. “I waited too long.”

Silver gasps at his teeth. “Better late then never.” He manages.

Thomas grins. “In the meantime…” he slides their cocks together meaningfully in the slick of their joined spend, making Silver moan at the sensation of it.

“Can you come again?” Thomas whispers. “For me?”

Silver smiles. “I think I could manage that.”

*  *  *

They end up on the bed this time and while Silver has been here mostly on one side of James with Thomas on the other, he’s not been here alone with Thomas, not yet.

Thomas’s coat slips down from his shoulders and he leaves it where it lies on the floor. His hands press lightly into Silver’s skin as they kiss more, bodies leaning together as their tongues glide and dance against each other.

Thomas discards Silver’s breeches and smallclothes, stroking him lightly from base to tip and Silver moans.

“I want you in our bed every night.” Thomas sucks on his lip. “I want you with us. I want you.”

He slips down Silver’s body to take him in his mouth. Silver gasps, arching into the warmth of him, Thomas sucks his cock slowly, making Silver pant and then he draws off, nuzzling Silver with his lips, as his fingers slip between Silver’s cheeks.

“Please.” Silver whispers.

Thomas smiles around his cock and it’s one of the most beautiful things Silver has ever seen. He draws Silver deeper down his throat as his fingers stroke Silver’s entrance, making Silver pant and moan helplessly against him until he can’t hold back any longer.

Thomas sucks him until he’s completely spent and then he moves back up to press another kiss to Silver’s mouth. Silver brushes his hand against Thomas’s cheek, gazing up with him and there’s answering affection in Thomas’s eyes.

Thomas rests his head against Silver’s. “You are precious to me…" The words are so soft Silver thinks he's dreamt them.

He wraps a hand around Silver’s waist, holding him close. Silver nestles his head against Thomas’s chest, finally feeling like he can breathe.

 *  *  *

When James returns that night, it’s to a memory of that first time he came back and found them in bed together. This time he can let himself stand there and enjoy the sight of them both together, unlike that time when he had been so afraid of the unknown future ahead of them.

This time he can stand there and let himself know for the first time that there is a world of possibilities before them.

This time he can join them, and he does so, laying down beside Silver, cradling him between him and Thomas as he presses a kiss to Silver’s hair.

Thomas smiles at him over Silver’s shoulder. “I told you he would be in our bed.”

“So you did.” James murmurs. He should have known Thomas was right.

Thomas reaches for his hand, clasping James’s fingers in his. “I should have asked you...I grew tired of waiting, I’m sorry.”

“There is no need for apologies.” James says. “I haven’t been…as forthcoming as I could be.” His other hand plays lightly with Silver’s hair. He wants things to be better between them, but he doesn’t know whether it will be. There is so _much_ of the past between them, the frustration of losing the war is still there, how long it took Silver to tell him of Thomas’s survival, all of these things that if he lets himself forgive, is he not betraying Thomas yet again?

Thomas raises an eyebrow. “That is quite the understatement.”

James chuckles faintly, smothering the noise against the pillow, not wanting to wake Silver.

“It’s all right.” Thomas whispers. “It will be all right, my love.”

James finds himself reassured, even though part of him still wants to ask ‘will it?’ It is not so easy to accept that, even here in the safety of their bed.

“I told him I loved you.” Silver says sleepily, the words muffled into Thomas’s chest.

“What?” James blinks at the words.

Silver yawns and turns his head slightly to gaze up at him. “I told him I loved you, so I suppose I better say it to you as well.”

James is speechless, waiting, and then Silver sighs as he realizes James is actually waiting for him to truly say the words.

“I love you.” He murmurs.

James leans down to kiss his mouth. “I love you too.”

He feels Thomas’s fingers tighten against his, holding him close.

 _It will be all right, my loves,_ James thinks and tonight he believes it.

*  *  *

In the morning the books are moved to the shelf in the front room. 


End file.
